Yesterday, I had the pleasure of visiting my doctor due to the surprise visit of a UTI. UTI is fancy medical terminology for "my pee-pee place hurt." Anyhooha (get it...hooha), um...I was sitting in one of the examining rooms anxiously awaiting the results of my urinalysis (another fancy medical term that means I peed in a cup and they tested it), I noticed a poster on the wall. It was of the digestive system. I guess they had to put me in the digestion room because they are lacking a pee-pee place room. Upon closer examination of this poster I discovered something oddly horrifying, yet funny. This poster had a fork holding back the liver so everyone could take a gander at this person's gallbladder. A fork. As in, well, a fucking fork. I couldn't find the exact poster, so I took the liberty of creating my own so you can share in the pleasure of seeing a fork stuck in someones liver.
Lovely, isn't it?
That Jesus Sho' Gets Around
Today I went to lunch with a co-worker/friend. She needed to run by her church to get something and on the way there she asked if I believed in the images of Jesus that people see. After pulling my car out of the ditch, I informed her that I did not. She obviously does not read Flumadiddle, and I'm obviously not going to tell her she should. She then told me that there was an image of Jesus on the wall of their church.
Christ on a stick! Or on a wall, in this case. Here was my big chance for a Jesus sighting. I was even going to take pictures and everything. We arrived at the church. I entered it. Contrary to popular belief, I can enter a church without it spontaneously combusting. There was nary a flicker of a flame. When she pointed out the Wall O' Jesus, she had that oddly peaceful look on her face, and I couldn't take the picture. I tried gently telling her that all I saw was water stains and someone had better check the roof. But she was in awe of her Jesus on the wall, and really didn't care that I didn't see it.
I just didn't have the heart to take any pictures so we could laugh at them. Maybe that means I have double standards, 'cause I sure as hell don't mind making fun of anyone else. But she's my bud, and if she thinks she sees Jesus on the wall, I'm not going to try and change her mind.
Just like she didn't try and change mine.
Fuck. I'm getting soft.
It's a Secret
Don't tell anyone...well you can if you must, but I've started a new blog. I'm trying to keep it as anonymous as possible. It's called Northwest Arkansas Eats, and it's my reviews of local restaurants. Now, most of you probably don't care about the fare in Arkansas, but maybe the local readers will.
The only qualifications that I have for writing restaurants reviews are: 1. I have taste buds. 2. They work. 3. I was visited by the God of Gastronomy and she said it was my life's calling.
And you don't want to argue with her.